


Double Double This This

by Tawryn



Series: Double Trouble [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint is up for anything, Double Penetration, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, Tony’s obsessed, and I don’t address it, and introducing sexpert Steve Rogers everyone, bad puns and pick-up lines abound, because it was already taking long enough to get to the porn, but let’s assume that they all have sex with each other when convenient, scene negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tawryn/pseuds/Tawryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony’s got a fantasy that’s <i>maybe</i> crossed over into obsession, Clint’s a good guy who’s game for anything (including two dicks), and Steve’s nowhere near as inexperienced as you’d think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Double This This

**Author's Note:**

> So, nerdwegian had asked on tumblr for ideas on how a character could proposition Steve into DPing his boyfriend (which came to fruition [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1159895)). I took it upon myself to come up with a few ridiculous lines which then spiraled into this thing.

 

“Hey Cap, put on your swashbuckling pants because I want us to plunder this booty together.”

“Yeah,” Clint laughs around a spoonful of cereal. “Don’t think he’s gonna go for that.”

Tony huffs. “Well, I don’t see you coming up with anything.”

“That’s because it’s _your_ fantasy. I’ve only graciously offered the use of said booty.”

“Come on, Barton, I know the idea gets you hot and bothered too. Just imagine it. Steve’s cock, my cock, your tight little hole…” Tony wistfully stares into the distance.

It’s becoming a fixation, and fixations are never good where Tony’s concerned. Well, good is such a relative term. Like, it’s good when it leads to eighteen hours in the lab and he comes out of it with yet another sparkling example of creative genius. Not good when it leads to Tony’s daydreams becoming centered around all the ways he can persuade Steve Rogers to get in on some double penetrative action.

Tony sets his jaw. “I’m gonna make this happen.”

“Let me know if you do,” Clint says, dumping his bowl in the sink. He whistles a jaunty pirate tune as he goes.

Tony is determined. It’s going to happen.

.

Two days later, it’s not any closer to happening.

Tony’s been racking his brain trying to figure out the perfect way to bring it up. Propositioning someone like Steve requires finesse and subtlety and Tony has boatloads of neither. It’s unfair, because he really hasn’t had a lot of practice proposing kinky sex to anyone, let alone someone as virtuous as Steve Rogers. It’s always just seemed to fall into his lap. He’d get drunk _et voila_ , magical sexcapades abound. That was probably his playboy rep hard at work, but whatever. It had never seemed like an issue until now.

“Any news on the double-p front?” Clint pokes his head into the gym, where Tony has been trying, and failing, to work out his frustration.

“How about this?” Tony straightens up and stands at parade rest. “Captain Rogers, once again your country needs you— to enter this man’s ass. But don’t worry, you won’t be alone.”

Clint actually laughs. Repeatedly.

“I thought that was gonna be the one,” Tony pouts. Clint comes over and pats his cheek, wearing a smug smile. Fucker.

“Don’t stop believing,” he says, and then runs a finger down the front of Tony’s shirt. Tony watches him walk away. Barton’s fine ass is worthy of two dicks, that’s no question.

He’ll find a way. He built a modern mechanical miracle in a cave, for fuck’s sake. He can find a way to seduce Steve into the most glorious of double rainbows, he’s sure of it.

.

Okay, he’s not so sure anymore.

Every time Tony gets Steve alone, it’s on the tip of his tongue. He’s thought of dozens of things to say from, _“Rogers, I’ve been thinking we should really do some team exercises. How about we start with a double team exercise on Barton’s ass?”_ to, _“Steve, have you ever seen 2 Girls 1 Cup? Do yourself a favor and don’t look that up, but how would you like to star in a production of 2 Dicks 1 Butt?"_   but Tony just can’t commit. It’s ridiculous, especially coming from someone who’s been touted as a sex idol for years. But for whatever reason, he can’t bring himself to put it out there and it’s starting to piss him off.

“Maybe you don’t really want it,” Clint suggests after listening to Tony complain (again) that there must be _some_ perfect way to say it.

“What?” Tony frowns. “Of course I want it. I can’t think about anything else. Pep asked if I wanted a double mocha yesterday and I disappeared into a twenty minute reverie.”

Clint shrugs. “All I’m saying is sometimes people think they want something, but it’s better left as just a fantasy for the spank bank.”

“Listen Dr. Ruth, don’t shrink me,” Tony says. “This isn’t some pie in the sky. This is a desire that won’t rest until it’s filled. Doubly filled.”

“Fuck, then just bite the bullet already,” Clint sighs. “I don’t know if I can wait much longer.”

“Don’t fret, my eager beaver. Doctor Stark will have your double dose soon enough.”

“And for the love of god, _stop_ with the puns!”

.

In the end, it’s Darcy who brings it all to a head.

It’s a Friday night, and for once they’re all together in the Tower without the threat of evil hanging over them. It’s nice, Tony thinks.

Also, they’re getting smashed.

Well, everyone except Steve, who reminds him that number one, he can’t get drunk; and number two,

“ _One_ of us needs to be sober in case there’s an emergency.”

“Rogers, you’re adorable,” Tony slurs. “Always putting justice first. Uncle Sam would be proud.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but sits on the carpet where Darcy has demanded everyone assemble. Tony collapses next to him and throws an arm over his warm, all-American shoulder. He’s feeling pretty good after five bourbons, not gonna lie.

“Alright, never have I ever—”

“Seriously, Darcy?” Clint moans. “Seriously?”

“Shut up, Barton.” Darcy gives Clint her blandest smile. Her new job as Coulson’s PA is clearly triggering some creepy mannerism changes. “Never have I ever been a superhero.”

“Cheap! That’s so cheap. I expected better from you, mini Coulson,” Tony complains, but he takes a drink as does everyone else, save Jane.

The game takes a quick and natural turn into the realm of filth and debauchery, but still, it’s Darcy who’s the one to take it to the edge.

“Never have I ever done DP,” she says slyly, and then takes a drink. Clint notices _(“You can’t use something you’ve done, what the fuck, Lewis!”— “Who died and made you game police?”_ ) but Tony is too busy noticing Steve _fucking_ Rogers take a pull of his beer.

His synapses seem to stop firing for a moment— it’s just the liquor, definitely not the thought of Steve double dicking, nope— before he regains enough higher brain function to speak.

“Do you even know what DP is?” asks Tony, because Cap must just be confused. No way has he played the backdoor fiddle with two bows. Maybe he thinks it’s a dance. Disco pachanga or something.

“I know how to use the internet, Tony,” Steve deadpans.

“Pitching or catching?” Natasha lifts an eyebrow. Her eyes catch Tony’s and they’re full of _things_ , knowy things, because either Barton told her or Tony’s hypothesis about Russian telepathy is true.

Steve shrugs. “Both.”

Oh fuck, _oh fuck_. Tony springs to his feet. “Game’s over, kids.” He grabs Steve’s hand and tugs him, with only a minor amount of stumbling, toward the nearest room. “Excuse us, Grandpa and I need to have a little chat.”

Tony shuts the door and leans against it. Steve is watching him with dry amusement, looking pretty damn unflappable, which is a direct contrast to how Tony is feeling right now.

“Yes?”

“DP. You’ve done DP.” Tony goes with simple. Simple is good, concise. It’s not like his brain is hitting on all cylinders here. In the wake of this revelation, he’s lucky to be working with one.

Steve arches an eyebrow. “And?”

Maybe it’s the booze, maybe it’s the fact that Steve is obviously nowhere near as virtuous as he’d thought, but Tony’s mental block dissolves and it just comes out in a rush.

“And I’ve been trying to think of a way to bring it up for two weeks, _two weeks_ , and here you are, the secret double dick king!”

“Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Huh?” Tony blinks.

Steve bites back a smile. “Novel idea, I know, but that’s how us regular people get what we want. We ask.”

Well, shit. “Steven, would you do me the honor of becoming my second pitcher?”

Steve laughs and it reaches his eyes, makes them go all crinkly and warm.

“Sure,” he says, like it’s not even a big deal, which is mind-blowingly hot enough for Tony to just grab his shirt and pull him into a kiss. And what do you know, Steve turns out to be an incredible kisser. It’s really unfair how woefully uninformed he’s been about Captain America’s secret identity as a sexual deviant. Really, really unfair.

In between the dirty slide of tongues, Tony manages to break away and pant something into Steve’s mouth about going to grab Clint and getting this show on the road. It has the unintended, totally wrong effect of Steve stepping back and looking at him carefully.

“Listen, Tony, you’ve had a few drinks tonight. Let’s wait until tomorrow when we can talk about it more.”

Tony tamps down any noise that could be construed as disappointment. He’s not _desperate_. Okay, complete lie, but _Steve_ doesn’t need to know that.

“Fuck tomorrow,” he says instead. “I’ve already waited too long for this.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing you just rush into, okay?” Steve sighs, reaching for the doorknob. “I promise that tomorrow we’ll sit down and figure it out. One more night of waiting isn’t going to kill you.”

“You don’t know that!” Tony shouts, belatedly, toward Steve’s retreating backside.

.

They do talk about it though, because Steve is unsurprisingly thorough. Tony guesses that’s the standard when you’re a sex maniac.

“I thought _you_ were the one who wanted to er, catch,” Steve tells him, a bit bewildered.

Clint snorts beside him and Tony’s brain takes a little sex vacation to a magical place where Steve’s fingers are opening him for two glorious cocks. It’s a thought that hadn’t crossed his mind, but now that it has he wonders why the fuck it didn’t earlier.

“Uh, next time?” he manages to get out, because there’s going to be a next time if Tony has a say in it. Many, many next times.

Steve smiles easily and says, “Whatever you want,” which is way hotter than it should be.

“Any ground rules?” Tony asks, flicking his eyes between Clint and Steve.

Clint shrugs. “Nothing too crazy, I guess. We should probably keep it simple, since it’s the first time for all—” he stops and looks at Steve, a slow grin spreading over his face, and corrects himself, “ _most_ of us.”

“I agree.” Steve nods. “Anything in particular you like? That would make it better?”

Clint chews on his lip, looking thoughtful. “Teasing is good. I like talk, dirty talk, but praise is good too.”

Steve looks at him. “Tony?”

“Me?” Tony raises his eyebrows. “I know I’m the mastermind behind this rodeo, but I’m hardly the star cowboy here.”

"That doesn’t mean you aren’t part of it,” Steve says slowly. “It’s better if we all have an idea of each other’s expectations and needs.”

“My _expectation_ is that I _need_ this to happen tonight or I’m seriously going to die.”

Clint rolls his eyes.

“Tony,” Steve chides. “I need you to give me something to work with.”

“Fine,” Tony says. “I want to watch while you fuck Barton here open, then I want to pound him open next to you, and then I want to blow my load and relax and maybe eat some leftover Chinese.”

“Okay,” Steve relents. “That sounds good to me. Any limits? Anywhere you don’t like to be touched?” Steve looks meaningfully at the arc reactor in his chest.

“Negative, Ghost Rider.”

“Then let’s reconvene at 2200,” Steve says.

Tony salutes him, mostly just to be a dick. “Aye aye, Captain.”

.

Following their conversation, Tony has to deal with a current humming just inside his skin all day long, but now, at the sight of Steve and Clint, it expands into a full-blown charge, thrumming all over and leaving him breathless with intent. Steve looks amazing under Clint, no doubt about it, all that hard muscle and power and justice being put to a good cause. And though he’s fucked Clint before, it’s somehow completely different watching Steve do it, seeing Clint look up at him through hooded eyes as he sits in Steve's lap, watching Steve fuck into him.

_Fantasy for the spank bank, my ass_ , he thinks. Though this is totally enough jerk off material for a lifetime and they haven’t even really started yet. God.

“Fuck, Steve,” Clint breathes. He’s jerking himself loosely, not enough to get any real satisfaction out of it, while Steve digs his fingers into the underside of Clint’s thighs and thrusts up, slow and unhurried.

“How’s it feel?” Steve’s voice is warm, but loud in the soft quiet of breath and skin slapping skin.

“Good, it’s good. I think… Tony, you can probably—” The rest of Clint’s sentence is lost in a groan. Tony warms the lube on his fingers as he kneels down in front of Clint. He bats his hands away and runs the tip of his tongue from the top of Clint’s cock to the base, chuckling as he curses breathlessly. He mouths down his balls, over the seam, and leans over to bite the inside of his thigh as he presses a finger in, right next to Steve’s dick.

He looks up. Clint’s whole body is flushed, his face open and needy. Steve’s whispering into his ear and Tony catches snippets like _look at you, you’re so good_ and _can’t wait to have you all opened up._

Tony feels a shock of lust pulse through him. He bites his lip, fighting back the urge to be inside Clint and next to Steve _right now_. He keeps stretching and brings another finger up to tease at Clint’s hole. He looks up at Clint, questioning.

Clint lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, keep going.”

He works him with two fingers, dragging out moans and whimpers, and is about to give him a third when Steve reaches around and slides his own slick finger in next to Tony’s. It’s like a harmony, the way Clint and Tony groan together. Fuck, he almost can’t believe this is actually happening. This is actually happening and Steve Rogers is helping him finger fuck Clint open.

Tony leans down and kisses Steve, dirty and hot. Clint whines helplessly and god, he must feel incredibly powerless pinned between the two of them. Tony breaks away and licks into Clint’s mouth and Clint responds fiercely, fisting a hand in his hair and using his teeth recklessly until Tony pulls away with a hiss.

“Do it,” Clint gasps. His mouth is swollen, shiny with spit. “Do it now, I’m ready.”

Tony doesn't need to be told twice. He slicks up his cock and slowly pushes it in next to Steve. And fuck, it’s unreal, it’s amazing, Clint’s so tight around him and he can feel every inch of Steve’s dick, hot and heavy next to his own.

Clint’s shaking now, eyes shut tight and breath coming fast and shallow. Tony waits; he links his fingers with Clint's and squeezes reassuringly while Steve hands soothe and stroke down his sides. Finally, Clint opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, and nods.

Tony pulls back and then pushes back in and _oh my god_ it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, the world narrowing into a smoldering fire that burns just under his skin.

“Fuck yeah, you love this don’t you, Barton?” Tony pants, the words spilling from his lips into Clint’s ear. “One dick’s not enough for you, is it?”

“Fuck yes. More, _more_ ,” Clint says. “Give it to me, I can take it, c’mon.”

Tony rocks his hips against Clint, barely moving while Steve fucks into Clint with broad, even strokes. It’s hard to get a rhythm going and after a while he stops trying. He focuses on Clint between them, spread open, filthy and raw as he arches into Tony’s touch and then back against Steve, like he can’t make up his mind. Tony rakes his nails over Clint’s stomach and he sobs, writhing, digging his fingers into his own thighs. It’s impossibly hot, watching him fall apart, and then Steve starts fucking Clint deeper and god, Clint makes this amazingly high and breathy sound that runs through him, runs all the way through to Tony’s cock. He moves along with Steve but it’s almost like an afterthought, wrapped up in Clint’s impossible tightness and feeling the drag of Steve against him, white-hot and wonderful.

“Fuck, Clint, wish you could see yourself,” Tony groans. “So fucking gorgeous, split open like this, taking both of us.”

Steve hums in agreement and ghosts a teasing hand over Clint’s cock, god he’s a fucking _sadist_ , and Clint wails, throwing his head back. Not for the first time tonight, Tony finds himself envious of Clint, of _next time_ , his brain spinning with thoughts of being consumed, being pulled apart and set alight.

“Tell me how good it feels,” Tony demands. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“So good,” Clint slurs. “So tight an’ hot, feel like ‘m being… torn in two.”

“You’re perfect, Clint. You’re good, you’re doing so good.” Steve’s rolls his hips as he groans, his cock sliding against Tony’s and Tony feels it in his toes, feels it pooling in his gut, and he has to fight back a sob because it’s going to be over soon and he wants this to _never end_.

“I’m gonna come, Clint.” Tony can feel it rising up inside him. “I’m gonna come in your ass and then I’m gonna pull out, and you’re gonna be so wet and loose. And then you’re gonna let Steve fuck your sloppy hole until he fills you too, because you’re _such a good boy_.”

Clint goes off without even being touched, crying and grabbing at Tony’s arms as he shoots all over himself. Tony’s right there with him, teeth clenching as he comes and comes and comes, stretched out from here to forever. Steve fucks them through it tirelessly; the strained noises he’s making, he must be almost there himself. Tony reaches down and runs his fingers over Steve’s balls, presses behind them, and Steve comes with a shout. Tony feels it, feels Steve’s cock pulsing against his own and he shivers.

He pulls out gently, followed by Steve, and they collapse into a tangle of limbs. Clint is still shaking, so Tony pets him wherever he can touch, presses kisses into his skin. They're quiet in the moment, nothing but heavy breathing in the otherwise silent room. Steve strokes Clint's hair and murmurs into his ear, “How do you feel?”

Clint laughs. “Fucking great. Feel like I’m high.”

“Okay, _definitely_ me next time,” Tony says. Steve smirks at him and leans over Clint to kiss him, a slow slide of tongue and promise.

“Be right back,” says Steve, disappearing into the bathroom. He comes back holding a glass of water and two pills in his outstretched hand. “Here, take some aspirin. You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”

“God, I hope so,” Clint grins and swallows the pills. Tony takes the glass when he’s done and drains the rest, then grabs the blankets and curls up. He's sure they're going to be gross and sticky in the morning, but he can't find it in himself to care. Steve slides up behind him and runs a hand down Tony’s side.

“So, was it everything you wanted?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” Tony hums, feeling the weight of sleep dragging him down. “But now I want everything.”

Clint laughs softly against his neck. “When don’t you?”

Tony sighs, content, soft and warm between Clint and Steve.

“Good thing I always get what I want.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to nerd’s husband for the “once again your country needs you— to enter this man’s ass. But don’t worry, you won’t be alone” line, totally his. I had to put a lot of nickels in the Bad Pun jar for that.


End file.
